How many times have you criticized yourself in the last 24 hours? Stop for a minute and think about it. If you’re having any doubts that you’ve been anything but complimentary, think back to when you got dressed this morning. What exactly did you say to the image in the mirror? “Look at that stomach! Your thighs are enormous! You’ll never fit into those pants you got last month. You look terrible!”

Most of us wouldn’t dream of speaking to another human being like that. But we have no problem routinely addressing ourselves in a disrespectful, even demeaning, way. And those voices make weight loss, or any kind of change, difficult or even agonizing.

Where do they come from, these critical, demeaning voices? Mostly, they’re the collective, cruel voices of our past — our parents, our siblings, schoolyard bullies, former lovers — that we’ve internalized. Over time, we come to believe them as true. They’re incredibly powerful. And they can set up all kinds of horribly self-sabotaging situations.

Not long ago, I was in an unavoidable situation with a person from my past who was the source of many of my own voices. I had gone into this situation feeling positive, even elated: my career was successful, my friendships were solid, my family life was strong, my health was great. Less than 24 hours after being with her, I felt demoralized, pitiful, small. Nothing in my life had changed, but I was utterly deflated — until I became aware of a cacophony of voices inside my head. There it was: a steady stream of small but painful self-criticisms, like an onslaught of tiny, fierce hornets. The irony is, this woman’s criticisms of me paled in comparison to my own self-talk. I’d done most of the work for her.

How does negative self talk hamper your best efforts to lose weight or, for that matter, get a job, run three miles, begin a new relationship, even move through your day in a peaceful fashion?

1. It keeps you stuck in the past. Most of the time, negative self-talk has nothing to do with what’s going on in the moment, in present time. Those critical, blaming voices are based almost entirely on past influences that don’t recognize who you are today. They’re not accurate. Staying in the past also keeps you in a comfortably familiar role, even if it’s a miserable one. No matter how much you want to change, it’s scary to step out of a familiar pattern and into a new way of being — even if, ultimately, it will bring you joy and peace.
2. It increases cortisol. Stress — any kind of stress, be it physical, mental or emotional — increases levels of cortisol which in turn encourage the storage of fat, especially around the belly. A new study published in the journal NeuroImage, found that study participants who engaged in self-criticism showed more brain activity in the regions associated with depression, anxiety and eating disorders. In other words, mean self-talk makes you eat more, and hold on to excess weight.
3. It undermines your confidence. You’ve got to be your own champion, your own best friend. No one else will do it for you. If the voice in your head is hurling demoralizing epithets at you every 10 seconds, you’ll feel defeated before you’ve even left the starting gate. And when you’re standing on the sidelines screaming, “Who are you kidding? You’ll never lose weight,” you probably won’t.
4. It destroys your trust in yourself. When the nasty little voice in your head is hurling unkind words at you, it’s impossible to simultaneously trust yourself. And trusting yourself is key to any kind of change — especially a positive change in dietary habits.
5. It’s really believable. The voice that’s spewing out that steady stream of negative talk is powerfully persuasive. It knows the right phrases, the exact tone, the fastest way to cut you off at the knees. But the voice isn’t always obvious; it can be clever, slippery and so hard to pin down that you’re not even aware of its presence until the damage is done.

Knowing that negative self-talk is a nasty habit is one thing. Stopping it is another issue altogether. The first step is to simply draw attention to the voice in your head. What is it saying? And whose voice is that anyway? Try this exercise: for one hour every day, become acutely aware of your negative self-talk. You don’t have to confront it right away; this first step is a fact-finding mission. Take a step back from the voice, and listen to it with curiosity. Give it lots of space to express, but stay non-committal. For some people, 15 minutes of this practice is plenty.

Once you’ve become painfully aware of your own negative self-talk, talk back. This is your chance to say all those things you didn’t get to say in real life. If it’s possible for you, talk back out loud. Really loud. It’s freeing to holler at the voice that represents the critical people from your past.

I had a client whose parents sat at the dinner table every night and poured on a torrent of criticisms as she ate: “Why are you eating so much? You’re already so fat! You’re only going to get fatter!” Mind you, this woman was a child at the time, and she played out their predictions: she ate more, and she got fatter. She’s a grown woman now, and not speaking to either of her parents, but their voices continue to ruin her meals on a nightly basis. Once she became aware of how efficiently she’d internalized their negative dialogue, she started to talk back — or, rather, holler back, using words I can’t print in this column.

Eventually their voices stopped, the negative self-talk slowed, and she regained control of her own mind and life once again. Try it yourself; with practice, you’ll become your own champion and best friend — and speaking nicely to yourself will become a cherished habit.

I’ve been reading the work of Marion Woodman, an author and Jungian analyst who’s well known for her writings on addiction and eating disorders. In much of her work, she talks about how literal the body is in its signals; in a recent interview she says, “The longing for sweets is really a yearning for love or sweetness.”

If cravings really are that transparent, why are we so frequently at their mercy? I think it’s a simple answer: we just don’t take the time to listen to where the craving is coming from. What part of our selves is doing the craving–the body or the mind? The fact is, we don’t really pay much attention to our selves from the neck down. In our culture, the head is where the action’s at; it’s the part that’s sexy and loud and bright, and we’re completely at its mercy. Meanwhile, we drag the body around like a dog on a leash.

But the body is brilliant at expressing its needs and desires. It’s just not as shrill or strident as the mind, and we don’t get still and quiet often enough to hear it — or we do hear it, but allow the mind’s whims to subjugate the body’s needs. When we get sick, it’s often the body’s way of saying “Enough!” when it’s fed up with being ignored. And it’s an opportunity to check in with our selves from the neck down, and notice what needs attention.

What does all of this have to do with eating? Everything. In our culture, we eat from the neck up. When we dine out, we choose grilled salmon, no sauce, dinner salad, dressing on the side, because the brain tells us this is a nutritious choice that will keep us slim and healthy. At the store, we load up our shopping carts with nonfat milk, low-calorie “butter” spread and diet soda, because our minds tell us those foods will also keep us slim. Sometimes, we load up our shopping carts with frozen dinners and boxed mac ‘n cheese, because our minds tell us we’re behind on deadlines and we don’t have time to cook.

Ordering grilled salmon in a restaurant is a fine idea, and there’s nothing wrong in general with shopping for easy-to-prepare foods. But where is the body in all of this? If you order the grilled salmon to be virtuous, but you’re not in the mood for fish, and you’re longing for risotto, your body won’t be fed in the same way. The meal will be nutritious, but it may not be nourishing. You won’t experience pleasure.

Now, the tricky part about cravings is differentiating between the needs of the body and the capricious desires of the mind. Is it truly your body that wants ice cream or spicy cheese nachos, or is it your mind that wants them, to provide a momentary distraction from stress, worry, anxiety, loneliness? It could be that you don’t want food at all; maybe, as Woodman suggests, you’re really craving sweetness in your life. (Or in the case of nachos, more spice.)

Maybe the cells of your body really are crying out for ice cream or nachos; maybe you’ve been on a highly restrictive diet since eighth grade, and your cells are starved for fat. If that’s the case, you might want to engage your body in a dialogue; maybe another kind of fat–olives, avocado, coconut oil, organic butter–would appeal even more strongly.

Sometimes our cravings are what our minds call “healthy” cravings, for foods like fresh melon or walnuts. Because we indulge those cravings without mental or emotional suffering, those aren’t the issue. Other cravings for foods that cause adverse physical reactions in the body–like sugar for a diabetic, or wheat for someone with Celiac–simply shouldn’t be indulged. And if you have a serious eating disorder like anorexia or bulimia, I encourage you to seek one-on-one, professional help.

For everyone else, try this out: the next time you have a food craving that’s causing you distress, just stop what you’re doing and notice. Where is the longing in your body? What exactly is it saying? If possible, find a place where you can be still and quiet for at least 10 minutes. Get comfortable, close your eyes and just sit with the craving. What comes up? What words, images, physical sensations, emotions are behind the craving?

Sometimes, when you’re sitting at the edge of a craving, you’ll find that your body wants to move in a certain way; allow it that freedom, and see if it’s offering a clue to what’s really going on. Begin to write about your cravings in a journal; it’s a fascinating exploration into the inner landscape. Sometimes, you’ll find that a craving really is signaling a nutritional deficiency in your body. But you may also notice that, most of the time, your cravings have nothing to do with food. It’s hard–painful, even–to sit there with a craving and be with what comes up. But if you can do it, it’s liberating, exhilarating and ultimately more rewarding than a chocolate chip cookie.

What do your cravings look like? Please post your comments; I’d love to hear.

No matter where you go, there you are. And no matter how you feel about your body, your weight or the size of your thighs, it’s still you. Hating yourself into being different never works.

I’ve been writing a lot lately about the importance of self-love and how it relates to food, weight and health. I’ve talked about how you can’t flog, demean or hate your body into changing, whether it be to lose 10 pounds or heal from disease. But some readers have asked me “How do you learn to love yourself?” That’s a good question; most of us don’t know. The first place to begin is to just notice how you relate to your body’s physical needs in general.

Every time you deny your physical needs–you stay up just a little longer when you need to sleep, or work right through the flu, or “hold it” when you really have to pee–you send the message to your body that it’s not important. We do this all day long with food; we shovel down breakfast on the way to take our kids to school, or we rush through lunch so we can get those last few emails sent, or we skip dinner because we’re dieting. Then we expect the body to perform for us, like a dog doing tricks.

You must make yourself be a priority, if for no other reason than your desire to eat better and/or lose weight. Begin by recognizing that you are your first relationship. I’m not saying to ignore your child, neglect your friendships or run roughshod over the needs of others. I’m saying to make yourself one of your friends, and treat yourself like a beloved child. Here are six ways to begin.

1. Act as if. The quickest way to feel loving toward yourself is to act loving toward yourself. Some 12-step groups say “you can’t think your way into right acting, but you can act your way into right thinking.” If you don’t know what that would look like, try this simple but profound exercise from Louise Hay: on the top of a sheet of paper, write “I love myself, therefore,” Then list all the things you do, or would do, out of love for yourself. These might include “I love myself, therefore I feed my body clean, wholesome food,” or “I love myself, therefore I refuse to starve myself.”

2. Eat when you’re hungry. Hunger signals mean the body needs to be refueled; ignore them long enough, which we do when we’re busy, stressed or dieting, and they’ll become blunted. I hear so many people say “I never get hunger pangs.” That’s not the only physical sign of hunger; lack of focus, irritability, nervousness and light-headedness can all indicate the need for food. Food provides nourishment, and to deny yourself food is, literally, to deny yourself nourishment.

Now, here’s a fine distinction: people say “So I should eat every time I’m hungry, even if it’s all day long, nonstop?” To that, I would ask, “What are you really hungry for? Is it really food?” You’d be surprised by how often “hunger” is really the body calling for rest, or sweetness, or some kind of attention that has nothing to do with food.

3. When you eat, eat. Don’t read, watch TV, work, drive or engage in stressful conversations. Just eat. Be present with what you’re doing and mindful of the food and your body’s sensations. Look at your food; smell it, notice how it feels in your mouth, really taste it. Most important, pay attention to how it feels in your body. Is it working for you? Your body will give you feedback if you just slow down and get quiet enough to hear. Which brings me to the next point:

4. Slow down. Part of that feedback loop includes the body’s message that it’s full. Sometimes, that message comes long before the plate or bowl is empty, even mid-forkful. But you’ll miss that signal if you’re rushing through your food. Related to this idea is to sit down for meals. I know so many people–usually moms–who eat most of their meals standing up. Sit down, every time, even if it’s for “just a few bites.” If all you want is a spoonful of ice cream, take a spoonful out of the container, put it in a small bowl, return the container to the freezer, and sit down at the table with your small bowl. Eat it slowly and mindfully. You may actually be satisfied with “just a few bites.”

5. Eat what you’re hungry for. I can almost hear you saying “What!? Are you nuts?!” I realize this is discouraging or even frightening for people with food issues and sensitivities, like allergies, certain food addictions, diabetes and people on strict weight loss diets. Let me explain: examine your desire and see if there’s something in the food that you’re specifically craving. For example, if you’re yearning for Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, what is it about that food that you need or want? Is it the coldness, or the creaminess, or the sweetness? Is it the bits of cherry, or the chocolate? Once you identify what exactly you’re craving so strongly, you might be able to find something else that satisfies those sensory taste needs.

6. Treat your body with respect. Mindless binging, shoveling food into your mouth or chomping on a fast-food burger while you’re driving your car are disrespectful, even demeaning, behaviors. Treat your body as you would a beloved child. Feed it gently, attentively, with care. And feed it clean food. We say we want to “indulge,” and then we do it with too much cheap, low-quality food: fast-food fries, donuts, oversized restaurant meals, chips by the bagful.

If you want chocolate, and you’re a person who can eat chocolate, then have chocolate; buy an expensive bar of the highest-quality stuff you can find, drive all the way home with it still in the wrapper, sit down with it, unwrap it slowly, break off a small piece, smell it, place it on your tongue and let the warmth of your mouth melt it against your palate. Notice the sensations you experience in your mind and body. It’s a completely different experience than snarfing down a Snickers bar on the way out of the grocery store. And one that’s very loving.